


The Long, Long Road to Love, or: The Grumpy Bear and the Hobbit

by a_thousand_sails



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Endgame Larry, Fluff, Grumpy Harry, Humour, M/M, Mild Angst, Tiny Louis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 13:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5968765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_thousand_sails/pseuds/a_thousand_sails
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is really too cute for his own good. Harry is too grumpy for his own health. When they meet, sparks don't exactly fly, but Fate is a powerful thing, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. All because of a party...

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Don't hate me, but I don't even like 1D. I just noticed how short Louis is... And this was born.
> 
> Warning: possibly offensive language. 
> 
> Oh and I'm not British. Or American. So this might sound weird?

Louis knew he shouldn't have listened to that Paki bastard. Every time he knows he's had enough Zayn manages to get another one of those evil red plastic cups into his hands. He should just stop going to the frat boy parties, really. Everyone makes it their goal to get him absolutely pissed (which is easier than he'd admit), and he makes a fool of himself. Just like tonight. Studying was a far better pastime. 

Stumbling a bit too much, Louis thinks that he probably should have waited for Zayn to walk back to their dorm. At the moment he's not really sure he's even headed in the right direction. With typical British mule-headedness, however, Louis refuses to phone for help. If he just keeps putting one foot in front of the other...

A large hand grips the back of his hoodie and Louis is lifted into the air. God-damnit! 

"Hey there, shortbread. Where you going?"

It's a rather beefy albino with a lazy grin. Louis thinks he might be on the basketball team... Damn American university. Louis lets out a stream of curses this guy probably doesn't understand, a lot of *bloody* and *wanker*, and ends with shrieking, "Put me down!"

The pale freak laughs, and then tosses Louis through the air. The Brit screams (manfully, mind you) before he is caught against a hard chest. The bully brought friends. 

"Feisty!" The voice behind him chuckles as his hand fists in Louis' hoody. The boy had lashed out, trying to twist his body and escape, kicking backwards at the guy's legs. Hopefully he could get him in the balls. The bully simple held him out in the air, cracking up at his antics. 

Louis felt a hot blush paint his cheeks. He felt completely helpless, all his bottled up rage threatening to turn into tears. He refused to cry.

*******

That was how Harry first saw him. Some sort of hobbit, dangling from the grasp of the basketball goofs. His legs swung wildly through the air, and his baggy hoodie had ridden upwards, exposing his thin, pale body. Harry might have stared, just a little bit.

Then he was jogging forwards, while grumbling under his breath. Harry's fist slammed into Jimmy's face and (God that guy was disgusting) then he stepped testily towards Ty (short for Tyler or Tyson? He didn't know). Harry didn't really hang out with the basketball jocks, he preferred kickboxing, but he knew them and they knew him and knew he wasn't to be messes with. 

"Hey man, this ain't your business-" Ty started, but Harry's temper was running short.

"Cut the nonsense Ty, and put Little Miss Muffet down. It's late, and I'm missing my bed, yeah? I'm not going to ask twice."

"Hey, man," the tall guy shrugged. "We was only having some fun. See, I'm putting the little shit down."  
That accent was really getting to Harry. Ty reached out to ruffle the wild brown hair of his victim, which earned him a sharp kick to the shin. Sighing, Harry stepped forward before he could retaliate. With a flip of his baseball jacket, the African-American disappeared into the night after his friend.

With a firm hand on the kid's shoulder, Harry started to tug him back towards the dorm rooms. The guy pulled back, spluttering.

"Let me go, you bloody big idiot. I've got to find my glasses."

Momentarily shocked by the familiar British accent, Harry took a moment to realise that the kid was completely inebriated, tripping over his feet as he peered at the paving stones. Harry was tempted to leave him there and go to bed, but he had a terrible suspicion that it would return to bite him in the bum. His Irish roommate would somehow sniff out news of his behaviour like some sort of bloodhound and lecture him about it for days. At least, that was what he told himself when he stomped over to join the search. It probably had a lot more to do with the glimpse he'd caught of a small, round ass perfectly hugged by jeans.

The kid (Harry still had to ask him his name) was mumbling something under his breath, movements slowing and growing sloppy. Harry knew, he just knew, that the damsel he'd just saved was about to keel over and pass out. Harry's mind felt completely separated as he watched his body glide forwards. Something glinted on the ground and Harry pocketed it, his focus still on the small body in front of him. The messy brown head was pillowed on his hand just as it began to tip forwards, hand sliding to the boy's shoulders as his other hand hauled his hips upward. Harry bounced him awkwardly in the air, adjusting his grip, and then trudged back up the hill, across the grass, and into the quad of buildings. 

******

Zayn was going crazy. Instead of being the responsible roommate and best friend and getting Louis home, he'd wound up in some older chick's apartment for the night, and when he made his painful, hungover way back to campus and their room, Louis was nowhere to be found.

Being well-acquainted with the strength of his rather small friend's hangovers, asides from the fact that it was Saturday, Zayn knew there was no way Louis had already woken up and gone out. He had tried Louis' number, but of course the phone was dead. Now he couldn't help but imagine all sorts of terrible situations wherein Louis had passed out somewhere outside and died of hypothermia, or been abducted by rapists, or...

Trying to think rationally, Zayn resigned himself to going door to on campus, hoping Louis had gone back with on of his fellow students, even if this meant walking in on a compromising situation. Then again, Louis wasn't one to sleep around. He wasn't generally one to go to the wild parties on campus anyway, unless Zayn dragged him along. *It's all my fault!* the dark skinned boy banged his head against the the first door, before opening it.

He stifled a scream when he saw the lesbian couple making out on the floor.

"Lock your bloody door!"

 

Zayn was exhausted after only one floor of their building. He was thinking with dread of all the rooms in all the other buildings when the door on the second floor opened to reveal a very grumpy looking half-dressed sophomore with long curly hair and tattoos. 

"Hi, sorry to bother you, but have you seen my roommate Louis?"

Grumpy raised an eyebrow. "Is be really short?"

"Yes!" Zayn barged past him into the small college room, instantly spotting the mass of tangled blankets on the couch, from which protruded familiar tousled brown hair.

"Lou!" Zayn squealed, rushing over to tug the blankets away. Louis squirmed and muttered incomprehensible protests. 

"Oi, mate, I just walked my bum off looking for you, the least you can do is get off yours!"

Zayn tugged at his sleepy friend's shoulders, seeing that they were still wrapped up in the boy's favourite baggy hoodie, and glanced back at the other occupant of the room.

"You better not have touched him."

Curly smirked back. "Wasn't aware be was taken."

This made Zayn scowl, until Louis sat up and fell against him.

"Hey, hey, come on Lou. Up you get," Zayn coaxed. "Don't make me carry you."

"You wouldn't dare," came the muffled response, and Zayn laughed. 

"Watch me."

"Alright, alright," Louis muttered as he pushed himself off the couch, swearing at the blankets when they tripped him.

Zayn gripped him by the shoulders, directing him towards the door. Louis halted though, and let out a squeak.

"Wait! My glasses!" He spun around, and then his gaze fell on the sophomore, who was still watching them, arms folded across his bare chest. 

"You!"

"Me." The older boy extended an arm lazily towards them, and swinging in his fingers were the pair of glasses.

Zayn snatched them from him, and bundled Louis out the door before he could say anything else.


	2. Louis' Unconventional Charm Steals the Day, or: Niall is an old lady, and Zayn is slightly more dignified

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis POV, then Harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what to say, but this fed my soul
> 
> My phone broke, taking with it a lot of my fics. But there was still this bit, so yay, right?

Louis shrugged out of Zayn's grasp, and made to go back, but his stronger roommate grabbed his hand and started tugging him down the hallway.

"Hey!"

"We're going back, Lou. I'm tired, and I want to tie you to your bed so I can sleep in peace."

"But- I-... Last night, he-"

"Lou, I don't want to know so please shut up," Zayn said firmly.

"Oh, you're a real charmer, aren't you?" Louis snarked.

They bashed into one of the fat girls from the Craft Club, and Louis nearly fell on his ass.

"Watch where you're going, dwarf!" The girl yelled at them, gathering up her bead boxes.

"Sorry, there's just no space between you and the walls," Louis shot back cheekily. Zayn tugged harder on his hand, and they flew away before Louis got stomped on by the furious girl.

He couldn't stop laughing at his own joke all the way back to their room, but Zayn seemed to be in a particularly bad mood this morning, so Louis contritely offered to make him a cup of tea.

"I may be half British but I'll never be as mad as you wankers. I want coffee, and I want it now," Zayn grumbled, flopping down on their battered out couch.

Louis sighed. "Yes, your majesty," and traipsed to the kettle.

"Oi, enough of your cheek," came from the couch

"Or what, you'll wash my mouth out with soap? Well, you may try, because-"

With a roar, Zayn leapt from the couch to chase after Louis, who yelled and ran for the door. He'd just reached the handle when he was seized from behind and lifted into the air. He struggled uselessly as he was dumped onto the couch, springs *ponging* in distress. Zayn's long fingers dug into his sides, under his armpits and his chin, poking at his back and squeezing his ticklish knees.

Louis wailed at the onslaught, writhing and laughing until he sobbed, and Zayn relinquished his hold, leaning back against the couch. Louis launched himself up at him, wrapping his arms around Zayn and clinging tightly to him. He felt his friend's chest shake with laughter as other hands reached around him.

"'M'sorry about last night, Z."

A sigh. "'S'alright. Wanna watch something?"

He turned around, settled in Zayn's lap as his roommate fumbled for the TV remote. Weak from laughter, Louis was content to rest against his friend's chest. *He's really more of a big brother* Louis ruminated. He'd always wanted a big brother.

*********

Harry was glad Louis left before Niall came back. He knew the bloody Irishman would find a way to tease him about the little freshman. Really, he rather deserved it. Since when did he turn into some cute kid's Knight in Shining Armour?

Harry felt a sour mood approaching. He felt like crawling back into bed, but knew he should really get started on some homework. This dichotomy of emotion made him even grumpier, and he snarled some filthy, bitter words out to make himself feel better as he searched the fridge for breakfast. Food generally made everything better.

But asides from a brown lettuce and three bottles of anchovy spread, there wasn't anything to eat.

"Damnit Niall, why didn't you do the shopping?" Harry moaned.

As if summoned by name, the door to their room crashed open and the grinning blond himself came marching in.

"GUESS WHO JUST GOT HIMSELF WELL AND TRULY LAID!"

"Niall!" Harry growled.

His roommate ignored him, instead draping his jacket on the small wooden table and flopping onto the couch. He clutched at his heart melodramatically.

"Her name was Isabelle. I tell you now I have never seen a bonnier lass. Her eyes-"

"What are you, a blooming Casanova?"

Niall smiled graciously. "Now Harry, don't be jealous-"

"Jealous? How can I be jealous when I'm bloody starving?"

Niall squinted up at him. "Did I-"

"Yes. It was your turn to do the shopping. And now where is the shopping?" Harry gestured towards the fridge.

"Well," Niall returns snippily. "You can hardly blame me when Annabelle-"

"You said her name was Isabelle."

"Does it matter?" Niall asked, exasperated.

"Look, I don't mind if you womanize your own sister, the point is I'm hungry, and you have to do something about it."

"I don't have a sister," Niall murmured.

Harry's glare turned nasty. "NI-"

"Alright, alright, I'll order us Egg Mc'Muffins, how does that sound, O Ye of the Voracious Metabolism?"

Harry sat down on top off him, extracting a squawk, and refused to deign that with a reply. Niall shoved him off and went in search of his phone, while Harry turned on the TV and stared blankly at some idiot playing with poisonous frogs.

When the food arrived Niall laughed at how greedily Harry gobbled it down.

"It's like you're a grumpy bear and I tame you with food," he sighed fondly.

Harry shoved his head into a cushion for that. But his mood did lighten after that, and Harry felt almost ready to face the pile of books on the table. He had just sat down on his wheeled office-chair (a gift from his sister) when there was a light knock on the door. Since Niall was in the shower, Harry got up to answer it.

"What do you want?" He leant against the doorframe. He was only wearing a pair of sleep-pants, but whoever decided to bother him on a Saturday had better deal with that.

"Hi." Blue eyes peered up at him.

Goddamnit it was shortie from last night. Harry blinked, and ipenes the door fully. *Now why did I do that?* he wondered.The kid (Louis was his name, right?) shuffled awkwardly past him. He ogled the dorm room for a second, before turning back to Harry.

"I didn't get a chance to thank you," he said with dignity.

Harry shook his head. "'S'alright. I rescue hobbits all the time."

Louis' brow scrunched up. "I'm going to ignore that."

Harry smirked down at him. Louis opened his mouth a few times, but didn't say anything. He glanced around the room a few times, eyes lighting on Harry's textbooks.

"You do maths?" He asked suddenly, walking towards the books.

"Yeah," Harry said noncommittally.

"I love maths. If I didn't do Drama I would have gone into Physics. Not sure where I'd end up, though, maybe astronomy, or particle theory. How are you finding it?"

Harry shrugged. "Not so bad. The statistics is hard, but I like mechanics."

"But stats is really all about plugging in the formulas, so is it just the graphs you hate? Everyone hates graphs, you know." Louis shook his head.

Harry didn't reply, and the silence stretched between them.

"Anyways, well, I'd better-" Louis was cut off by a squeal of delight from behind them. They both turned in surprise, to see Niall with towel around his head, holding his hands to his cheeks as he gazes in adoration at Louis.

Louis himself barely had time to shoot an apprehensive glance in Harry's direction before Niall rushed towards him and grabbed both his cheeks between his fingers. Louis' mouth fell open silently as his cheeks turned red from pinching and embarrassment, and then Niall's hands were exploring his hair, making it even messier.

"Oh Harry, look at him!" Niall exclaimed. "I could just eat him up! Look how tiny he is, and his little nose, how cute, and his hair is so soft, and look at his tiny little hands!"

Louis was frozen in shock, letting Nial poke and prod and squeeze. Until Niall squeezed his ass, when he let out an indignant squeak.

"Oh his bum is so small, and perky, and- no no, it's alright."

Niall reached out to stop Louis from stumbling away, dragging him back to be pulled into the Irishman's lap.

"I want to cuddle him forever!"

Harry found his tongue at last. "Niall, stop being an old lady. Louis doesn't want to be harassed, he was actually just going."

"Oh no he wasn't!" Niall pouted.

"Erm," Louis pushed uselessly against Niall's shoulder. "He's right, I was-"

"Fine," Niall allowed. "But you're going to come back and visit sometime, alright? You're going to come and visit Niall, and we're going to bake cookies, and watch movies, and if anyone - ANYONE - gives you trouble you come straight to me and I'll sort them out, alright?"

Louis giggled. Actually giggled. "Alright Niall," he said.

Niall pulled him into a tight hug and then shooed him out the door. As soon as the brown-haired boy had disappeared Niall sank back against the door-frame and sighed.

"What now?"

Niall surges forwards, gripping Harry's arms and shaking him back and forth despite the fact that the Irish boy was shorter than him.

"Wasn't that just the cutest thing you've ever seen?"

"I you mean the midget, then-"

"Oh you're hopeless," Niall grumbled. He swatted dismissively at Harry and went to get his laptop out. Harry had a sneaking suspicion that his roommate was about to tweet about Louis.

Deep down inside, Harry knew exactly how Niall felt. Louis really was just that adorable, with his gorgeously ruffled brown hair, all light and feathery, and bright blue eyes that looked magnified behind his glasses, and he really did have somewhat of a button nose, and his mouth was small and red, and his body wasn't just short but *small*, slender and narrow, his hands and feet tiny. Harry felt a horrible, nagging need to protect Louis.

What if the other athletes decided to pick on him? What if they spotted his pert ass and red lips and decided to have a different kind of fun? Harry felt his blood boil at the thought. He wanted to be as close as possible to Louis, to make sure no-one hurt him.

But he couldn't just gush over the little hobbit like Niall had. It wasn't in his nature. He didn't make friends easily, especially not cute tiny breakable friends. People were generally driven away by his perpetual scowl and aggressive body language, his thick tattoos over muscled skin. Perhaps they could tell he was a fighter, that he could easily beat up just about anyone. Or perhaps they caught sight of who he was, deep down, how hard and bitter he had become.

Harry laughed at his thoughts. He wasn't good at introspection. It was too depressing


End file.
